


He's Ready.

by CrazyM



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Kenny does not try to kill Levi this time, Levi-centric (Shingeki no Kyojin), skills, the one in which Kenny is a mentor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:44:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/CrazyM
Summary: "Levi can be trusted with his own life. He's ready"





	He's Ready.

Levi Ackerman, you dangerous little shit.

Who would have thought that a little bundle of bones, flesh and blood would learn to survive so well?

I still remember the day I had first seen him. Sitting in the corner of that room, squalid, small and quite undernourished. Kuchel was dead. And she left me this. A plant whose seed I would never know. But I had to nurture this little plant. Teach it to live. His skin was yellow against his bones but his eyes burned with life.

"What's your name, kid?"

  "Levi."

Levi, Huh?

And here he is today, in the center of a crowd, fighting a guy atleast three times bigger than him. In his eyes is no fear, no uncertainty. He knows what to do, how to do it and when to do it. All I see in those grey eyes is concentration. Deadly concentration.

I wasn't the dad he wanted. Heck, I wasn't even sure about being a good mentor to him. But he needed to learn. He needed to know how to survive. I never will have a family of my own because I'm so busy keeping the Reiss family alive- Their secrets, their anomalies and most of all, that girl named Frieda. So Levi was the only semblance of family I could ever get. I took Levi in.

Weeks were lost in making him human again- washing layers of filth off of him, feeding him actual food, making sure he doesn't snap while lifting stuff. Also putting clothes on his back and teaching him to take care of himself. But surviving is a completely different game. One with no rules, no ideals and no ambiguity. Its binary. You either live or you die. Simple as that. There are no morals when it comes to surviving because we are animals at the end of the day.

Mortal, fallible, faulted animals.

I come back one day in the evening and sit on the excuse of a chair. My house is nothing to be proud of. Just a massive tenement I got as a gift from Rod for my service. I remove my knife- a small one, nothing impressive, but something to fall back on just in case.

My eyes fall on him- His face is neutral, but his eyes give him away- like a zebra in a herd of cows. His grey eyes are bright with curiosity, fixed on the piece of metal that had just left me. A weird silence hangs in the air- Its awkward, prohibitive but at the same time it also feels right. I watch his features. He is piecing together a sentence, Figuring what to call it. 

But he fails nonetheless.

"What is that?" He does not bother to point, because we both know what he's talking about.

I hold the knife up and look at it, examining its edge."Its called a knife."

"What does it do?"

I casually flick it across the back of his left hand- the one closest to me. Light enough not to cause massive damage but still hard enough to cause pain, enough make him withdraw his hand and bring it up to his chest, prompting him to cover the wound with his right hand. But there is no noise, just movement.

"That."

Curiosity extinguished.

I spin the knife around and offer it to him. He twitches back on instinct but then realizes that I will not cut him again. He puts his good hand on the blade. His fingers wrap around the leather and he holds up the knife, Backhanded. I take if off his hand and put it the right way.

"That is how you hold it"

But he returns to the backhanded grip."Its better this way"

whatever floats your boat, boy.

He tries to swing but ends up making himself look stupid.

Okay kid, time to learn how to use a knife.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Its been a long time since I slashed his hand with the knife and by the time the wound has healed, Levi has learned quite a lot about blades- how to use them, how to throw them, how to stab with them, how to disembowel with them. And he has learned fast, and quite well if I do say so myself. But he cannot learn it all indoors. He needs to be taken out. You cannot teach someone about the world without going out into it.

There is some stability in the Reiss family so I can afford a day off and I decide to take him to the bar. Not the first place parents take their children to but Levi is not my son. The feeling is mutual. He does not view me as a father figure either, just a how-to-not-get-killed-in-this-cruel-world manual.

He sits beside me after an amusing scramble to the top of the stool and watches me talk, watches me interact with the barmaid, A cheerful, attractive blond. I make sure I do not set a bad example. I then engage in a fierce drinking competition with an acquaintance and exhibit that friendship is more than just helping your mates. Friends are for having fun too.

But it is impossible to enjoy peacefully in a bar.

A drunkard comes barreling towards me. Well not technically towards me but in the broad sense of direction. He makes sure to stumble, stutter and practically crash into each and every table and get pushed off. He then manages to stumble towards us and quite surprisingly, also manages to stop.

"You that Ackerman, innit?" He drawls

  "Yeah"

"Fight me"

Stop before this gets ugly.

  "Not in the mood"

"Why? afraid you will break a nail?"

I stay silent.

"So that is what the Reiss family uses you for? An escort? You paint your pretty little nails and play tea party with their daughters huh?"

this time people do laugh. _Well, You brought this to yourself, drunk asshole._

I get off the stool and face him. He puts his hands up like men do to protect their faces. He takes the first hit but it is hopelessly slow and too easy to the dodge. I swing with the right arm and hit him square on the temple.

Drill the punch, use your body. The force multiplies.

I use far too much power than what was required and manage to throw him off his feet and make him land face-first into the cold hardwood floor. There is silence in the bar now. I decide to get out of here because this can and will soon get out of hand. I push the doors and walk out. Levi follows.

I look at him again and there are those grey little circles of life. His face is again passive to others but I can see straight through that facade and see the awestruck expression he's wearing. His eyes are burning with curiosity again. He takes longer to put together the sentences but then this time knows what this action is called.

"Can you teach me how to fight?" He puts forward and lets it hang in the silence, like a fisher testing out his bait.

He is supposed to learn how to survive, so what the hell.

"Okay boy. Listen the first thing to remember in a fight is........"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Levi and the big guy have eyes locked. There is an endless stream of communication flowing between them. The big guy is crouched, hands by his side, waiting for Levi's first move. I let a little more crowd get ahead of me so that Levi does not see me but I know he knows that I'm here because his left foot is a little twitchy again, and that always happens when he knows I'm around. His arms are up and are guarding his face, with the palms flat against his head. Because raising the fists will cause damage when hit hard enough, even if they are in constant contact with the temple

His stance, his way of moving, everything was extremely practical. He had learned to fight not with a teacher or endless hours of doing one motion again and again. He learnt to fight by getting into fights. This was the style of a person beaten more times than he could count. Each small adjustment, each little motion perfected to the point of automatic. His is the style made in fighting. 

Big guy swings and Levi dodges easily. Big guy throws another punch and this time actually manages to clip Levi. This does not faze Levi at all.

Just like a true Ackerman.

Levi lets the big guy take a few more hits at him and absorbs them easily. People are cheering the man to finish the kid for once and for all.

But Levi saves his best for the last. I know that. I have fallen to that many times.

Or maybe not.

The big guy takes a kick feeling positive after so many hits connecting. Levi seizes his foot and yanks hard and big guy comes tumbling down, landing on his stomach. He gets up again and angered by the laughter at his sudden failure, draws a knife. He holds the knife in his right hand and takes a swing. Levi dodges and big guy misses him but manages to rip his shirt. Levi has no knife for himself.

A handicap? Oh this got interesting.

Big guy takes another swing and Levi ducks under his arm, leaving his right flank exposed. Big guy is quick to realize that and responds with a punch from the left hand. Levi catches that punch and swings his fist at big guy's face. There is the oddly satisfying sound of knuckles hitting flesh at _just the right angle,_ throwing the man off balance, which makes him take a step or two backwards.

Come on boy. I have taught you everything I had. Finish this guy.

I have come to a decision while Levi slugs it out. If he emerges victorious here, I have nothing left to teach him. If he does not, I will be there to pick up the mess and fix it.

Levi now takes the offensive and throws two right handed punches in quick succession, big guy's face getting bruised more and more with each punch. He swings another fist and hits him square in the center of the face. A stream of blood erupts from big guy's nostrils and his cut lower lip. Levi has just a small cut on his cheek.

I'm enjoying this.

Levi rides on his momentum and swings his left fist at big guy, followed by a hard right then another left. This barrage of hits has left big guy groggy and disoriented.

Finish him now, boy. Levi, as if on cue, kicks big guy on his torso and he falls, finally letting go of that knife which clatters to the ground. Levi clambers on top of big guy, seizes his collar with his left hand and punches with his right hand. Big guy's face now has blood erupting everywhere.

I have seen enough now. I have taught him enough to know that he has won this fight. There was no drama whatsoever. It was an easy win. Like snatching a candy off a child. I turn and start walking. There is the sound of scraping and I know Levi has picked up the blade and is going to put down big guy for good. Levi has won. He knows how to survive. He can be trusted with his own life now.

I adjust the hat on my head and bury my hands in the deep pockets of my trench coat. I realize I'm smiling and that might be because I have finally done something meaningful for someone else. Usually I have blood on my hands- butchering men, pruning rotten branches of the Reiss family and removing anomalies, but this time I have an easiness in my chest. The feeling of setting something free. The feeling of fulfillment. There's only one thing on my mind now as my feet continue to lead me away from the already distant fight behind me.

He's ready.

**Author's Note:**

> I had not seen many Fics exploring the relationship Levi and Kenny have and I thought it would be a nice topic to start my journey with. 
> 
> What next? Should this be continued? Should I add in more moments? Too cheesy? Fire away and let me know!
> 
> M


End file.
